The Colour Orange
by themadboy
Summary: Soon after having gotten rid of the Half-Blood Prince's book, Harry discovers that the Marauder's Map has another hidden power - that is, it doesn't just insult greasy-haired ex-potions professors. Perhaps this new discovery will lead to a new romance... Harry/Draco SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Harry slouched on his four-poster bed, mindlessly tapping the marauders' map with his wand. Ron was the next bed over, and on the other side of Ron's bed was Dean's, where Dean and Seamus now sat cross-legged.

Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, had just won their first match in years.

Ron, who had been nothing short of ecstatic since hearing their victory announced on that radio of his that morning, was leaning excitedly over the gap between his and Seamus' beds to exclaim loudly and with enthusiasm about the Cannons' "brilliant chasing strategy." His bright orange Chudley Cannons bedspread, which he had draped over his shoulders in a spurt of patriotism, clashed horribly with his shock of ginger hair.

"And then - did you see – how Wellesley passed to Koopmans right under the nose of that beater – brilliant, just brilliant…"

Harry was disgruntled. Hermione and Ginny had just made him get rid of the Prince's book – and now, although Harry had agreed to it, as he lounged in his bed bored out of his mind he had to admit he was feeling just a tad remorseful.

Ron went on – "and that save! Wonderful, wonderful…" he trailed off, his eyes glazing over dreamily as he gazed off out of the dormitory window, apparently overwhelmed by admiration of the Cannons' goal-saving techniques. Contemplation of their win seemed to be moving him into a state of rapture.

Although Harry would have normally found this behavior amusing, today he was rather annoyed.

As he tapped the map rhythmically with his wand, he thought about the incident in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom the other day – Malfoy, unconscious on the bathroom floor, blood pooling around him from the wounds on his chest –

_No, _Harry thought. It just didn't make sense – the prince had been someone he trusted. Although he had never met the person, although he had no idea who they might be – he had felt connected, confident – the prince couldn't be a dark wizard, he just couldn't… he had to be good… he had certainly boosted Harry's Potions grade, if nothing else.

And then there was Malfoy himself. When Harry had caught sight of the effects of his spell, his heart had caught in his throat. And not just out of shock at what he had done, but out of concern for Malfoy as well. Could it be, that even though he had known Malfoy to be cruel, to have attempted to kill Dumbledore, to have cursed Katie – that the sight of him crying in the bathroom stall that day had brought up some feelings Harry hadn't known that he felt. After all that, was it possible that he actually – _cared – _about Malfoy?

Harry frowned. Frustrated, he gave the map a hard jab.

Malfoy's behavior was terrible, that could not be debated. But, if Harry's theories were true, and Malfoy _was _a Death Eater – could it be that he was being forced to do things he would much rather not have done? Could it be that he had been coerced into joining the Death Eaters, and not, as Harry had initially assumed, signed up willingly?

Harry looked down at the map and started – The map, which had been open, showed Hogwarts as usual. But now the roving names of each person in the castle appeared in different colours.

Harry quickly sat upright, intrigued.

"Ron!" he called, not taking his eyes off the map. "Come here!"

Ron, still engrossed in conversation with Dean and Seamus, didn't hear.

Harry slid out of bed and put on his shoes and a robe. Taking the map with him, he left the dormitory in search of Hermione.


	2. Chapter 2

As he expected, he found Hermione in the common room, sitting in one of the tattered, slouchy armchairs by the fire and boring over an exceptionally large, worn book. Crookshanks slithered around her feet, purring loudly.

"Hermione," Harry called, still looking down at the map.

Hermione looked up from her book. "What is it?" she asked inquisitively. "You aren't looking at that to try and find out where we hid that _book, _are you?" she added, her expression changing to one of suspicion as she noticed the map.

"No," Harry replied, brushing off her concern. "Look…"

He placed the map on top of the large volume she had been studying.

"What am I supposed to be looking at – ohhhh!"

Hermione's eyes lit up with curiosity – the kind that always preceded a trip to the library.

"How did that happen?" she asked.

"I dunno – I mean, I was just kind of tapping it… not really paying attention, you know? And then I looked down, and it was like this…"

"hmm…"Hermione replied. "There are some objects that can be charmed to activate without a particular spell… but that makes it more difficult to know what it does. I mean, usually, if you look at the Latin root of a spell or incantation you can kind of infer what it's going to do. But this… this is tricky…"

She studied the map, frowning.

"I guess I could always have a look in - "

"The library," Harry finished for her. "Yeah."

Hermione blushed.

"Well, it couldn't hurt…"

Harry looked over her shoulder at the map, thinking. "Maybe there's another way to figure it out? I mean, it's obvious the colours represent something, right? Maybe if we kept track – we could find some patterns."

"Maybe," Hermione considered. "It's definitely a possibility. My first thought would be that it shows which houses people are in, but that's obviously not the case," said Hermione, pointing at a purple name on the map. "Well, think about it – the purpose of this map is to get away with mischief – what kind of information would be useful to Fred and George?"

"I dunno," said Harry. "Hey, look - " He placed his finger on top of Ginny's name on the map. As they watched, the name changed from dark blue to a light violet.


	3. Chapter 3

It was Sunday afternoon, and Harry – in lieu of a coming match against Hufflepuff – had called a Quidditch practice.

A pile of broomsticks lay pell-mell on the ground where their owners, in exhaustion, had tossed them. The team trudged back to the change rooms, muddy and grumbling about a wasted weekend. Harry stood at the door to the change room, nodding at each player and half-heartedly blurting out motivational comments.

"Great flying, Robins!"

"Excellent beating, mates!"

"Better next time, Ron!"

When Ginny passed, Harry held out an arm to stop her. Ginny walked right into his arm at first, then slowly took a step back. She eyed him, frowning.

"I'm not going to tell you where we hid the book, you know," she stated firmly and matter-of-factly.

"I know – listen, it's something else – do you perhaps know, er, what you were doing last night, around six?

Ginny raised an eyebrow, and looked slightly taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"I just – you know…"

"What do you care what I was doing last night?"

Harry blushed, and fumbled to find a quick reply. "Nothing! I mean, I don't, I just, erm…"

"Well?" Ginny questioned, her eyebrow ascending further up her forehead. She put her hands on her hips in a pose shockingly reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley.

"It's just, um, you know the map, the marauder's map – "

"And what map is this?" she interrupted.

"Er – I got it from Fred and George. Listen, it's not important – so, this map, it shows the castle, right, and, er, the people in it…" Harry blurted awkwardly, not knowing how to explain the map without suggesting, as goes without saying, that he'd been using it to get up to know good.

"What do you mean 'the people in it'?" Ginny inquired, her eyebrow now alarmingly close to her hairline. "You haven't been using it to spy on me, have you?"

"No! Harry exclaimed, exasperated. "So, um, there's, like… footprints, where each person is, and their name. And usually the footprints and name are in black ink, right? And they, er, move… anyway, now I did something and they're, um, different colours…"

Harry could not help but feel he was doing a rather terrible job of explaining.

"And…?"

"Well, we – Hermione and I – were trying to figure out what the colours mean. And last night, around six, your name changed colour. So I was wondering if maybe that had something to do with what you were doing at the time?"

Ginny frowned.

"I – " Harry started, feeling awkward.

"Homework."

" – know if you don't want to – wait, what?"

"Homework. I was doing homework. I took a nap, woke up around six, and got started on my potions essay."

"Oh…" said Harry.

"Yeah… what were you expecting?" she asked, frowning with her hands still on her hips.

Harry honestly didn't know. Something more dramatic, perhaps. He didn't think her answer gave him anymore insight into the map… I mean, his father and Sirius used the map for mischief and sneaking around, so what would they care to track students homework practices? No, that couldn't be it… Discouraged, Harry thanked Ginny, changed out of his muddied robes, and marched up to the castle to meet Hermione.


End file.
